Reminiscenpocalypse
by eltitere
Summary: How Dethklok was before they became the world 12th largest economy and the biggest music band ever. How was their ascent to fame?
1. En ny ankomst

Fandom: Metalocalypse  
Rating: M  
Warnings: het sex  
AN: This is a fic about the birth of the Klokateers and how Dethklok members used to be. I think their attitudes changed when they got hyper famous.

As Toki signed his name for the seventh time on a different contract, he could feel four pairs of eyes trained on him, appraising him, measuring him up and down.

Charles noticed it too. He had a sudden image in his head of four large and muscular wolves, glaring at a hare. The wolves were not hungry, they were simply deciding if they would tear the hare's head off for shits and giggles. Was the hare scared?

If he was, he was hiding it well. Toki's mood had only become more cheerful the further away they got from Norway. By the time the plane landed in United States, he was practically skipping. Then again this could be a combination of sleep-deprived exhaustion and a brain addled by alcohol, since the teen did not even nap during the entire 14-hour flight back home.

Much to Skwisgaar's annoyance, Toki fell asleep almost as soon as they got in the company van and leaned on his shoulder the entire way back to the dorm. The world's fastest guitarist tried poking, pinching and pushing to no avail. Charles had hoped that the band would get better acquainted with their newest member in the car ride since they had been in separate classes for the flight (Crystal Records would only pay for an economy class ticket for Toki since they assumed this guitarist would be rejected like the others).

The only consolation was that Murderface was also fast asleep and Pickles was dead drunk, so that plan would had been moot anyway.

Toki finished signing his name and put the handsome fountain pen down. Charles carefully archived the contracts and put the pen in his front pocket. He extended his hand at Toki. "Welcome onboard." They shook hands briefly, and Charles noticed how warm Toki's hands was.

The new rhythm guitarist turned around and gave the band a good natured smile which nobody returned (Pickles might have if he wasn't trying really hard not to vomit on the nice carpet). Skwisgaar and Murderface were glaring at him with thinly veiled hostility. Nathan's expression was unfathomable, so Toki decided it would be safest to extend his hand to him.

The band frontman grasped Toki's hand but did not shake it. Instead he gripped it hard to see how the teen would react. Toki's smiled faltered but he didn't say anything.

"Listen here. We're here to become the most brutal band in the world. We're here to make the world metal. So you better don't cramp our style."

Toki nodded. He was beginning to notice how much taller Nathan was.

"So lose the loser get-up. You look like one of our sad fans."

"Yeah, dude, why are you weahring a Mareelyn Manson tee-shirt? Hee's irrelevant, whut year do yoo think eet is?" Pickles was looking considerably better now that he had thrown up in the garbage can. He produced another beer, apparently out of thin air. "And frayed pants? Grunge ees over." He took a swig of his beer.

"Guys, don't worry about Toki's looks, I'm sure Ms. Rosenthal can take care of that. What's important is how you guys produce music together."

"Yeah, if you fails at being goods, you ams out. If you cannots rock you better walks off the pier like the sads dildo you are." Skwisgaar was still in a bad mood.

"Well, we'll find out tomorrow about his guitar-playing abilities. Toki, I'm going to show you your room. Nathan and Pickles, you two have a photo shoot for Screamer magazine. Skwisgaar and Murderface, you have to shoot the scenes for the Testament of Solomon music video in three hours, so I suggest you take a shower, get changed and eat something. Let's go."

Most of the Dethklok band murmured in resentment of having to work so soon after coming back, though they knew it was because their Norway tour had taken longer than expected and they were behind schedule.

Toki walked behind Charles, looking at the hotel-converted-to-dormitory. The doors still had numbers on them and the locks had key cards but the carpet had been replaced with hardwood floor and different locks had been placed above the non-functional electronic ones.

"The rest of the band doesn't usually sleep in the same building, but work has made this an efficient arrangement. I suggest you take advantage of it and get yourself acquainted well with Dethklok. You could have a very comfortable future if you gain their acceptance."

They arrived at room 544 and Charles got a small metal key out of his pocket. Unlike the hallway outside, this room was carpeted. The was a large bed with beige sheets that matched the drapes. Somebody had hung an _Annie_ poster on the wall.

"You get your own bed, your own bathroom." He turned and handed the key to Toki. There's a laundry room downstairs with vending machines. If you need to use a phone, you can go downstairs to the lobby."

He looked at Toki's frayed duffel bag, his only piece of luggage and swallowed the question about his parents. The whole process was smoother when no parents were involved, but he still found it a bit odd that someone as young as Toki would not even call. He decided to check his criminal records to see if he was running away from something.

"Anyway, you have the rest of the day to yourself. Just remember that tomorrow I expect you guys to begin recording the new album. Be ready to work hard, Nathan is a perfectionist."

And he left the room, closing the door behind him. As he was walking down the hall he got the nagging feeling that he should have said something like "just ask me if you need anything" even if it was a complete lie because he was a very busy man and extremely likely to delegate the task to someone else. Next time he'd ask but leave before anybody could answer. That way he could say he'd asked.

As soon as the door was closed Toki began feeling rather alone. It was finally starting to sink in that he had travelled across the Atlantic Ocean to the other side of the planet. At least this was as far away from his parents as he could get. He shivered slightly and tried to push them from his mind.

He sat on the bed and began to "unpack", though he only took five objects out of the bag before it was empty. An advanced calculus textbook in Norwegian, his only souvenir from school. An abused copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in German that he'd stolen from the public library. His toothbrush. The bleached skull of a badger (he had somehow gotten past airport security without a problem) and a little kitten keychain he bought the one time he'd been in Oslo.

He secured the key to his room to the keychain. Someday he'd have a cat of his own.

He laid down on the bed, trying to ignore the increasing feeling of worry. When he was with people, it was easy to forget his parents existed. Alone it felt like he was doing something wrong, like he was stepping out of bounds. Any minute Revered Aslaug would walk in that door and beat him senseless for drinking. For being friendly to the stewardess in the plane. For playing the Devil's music.

He had a sudden urge to go to the lobby and call his parents and tell them he was sorry. Sorry for being a bad son. Sorry for not coming home when he graduated. Sorry for purposely choosing a school in another county to get away from them. But he wasn't sorry. He'd done that because they were mean to him all the time. They beat him with the belt, with the stick, with the bicycle tyre.

They beat him because he'd been bad, because he had the Devil in him. Because he didn't like going to mass. Because he didn't like praying.

The memory of kneeling on the rough wooden floor for hours on end made him swing out his fist violently. His swing caught the bedside table, smashing the cheap plywood drawer to pieces.

"Mamma, jeg er lei meg!" He said out of reflex, expecting his mother's slap to come any moment. But his room was empty.

All four Dethklok members took the elevator together since the photo studio and the penthouse rooms were on the same floors. The elevator was a really old school one that even looked like a cage you could trap large animals in. The band liked it because it looked rather hardcore, but it was so slow that by the time they got to the top Charles had caught up to them from the stairs.

As they walked together down the hallway they met two women.

"Hi guys!" The first one that spoke was rather tall, with natural reddish blonde hair cut in a boyish cut. Despite being in her mid-30's, she dressed like a teenager with bright colours and shirts that were snug against her figure, accentuating her breasts.

"Welcome back." The second woman was a bit short in comparison to an average person, but next to Skwisgaar and Nathan she looked _tiny_. She had her curly black hair collected into a neat bun and was wearing a thick turtleneck and a white miniskirt.

"Hello, Miss Rosenthal, Miss Boyle." Charles greeting was short yet polite.

"Hellos! How ams my sweeties?" Skwisgaar put his arms around both of them. He acted like he had not seen a woman the entire time they were in Norway despite the fact that he'd joined the mile high club with the cute stewardess on the flight back and had liaisons with plenty of groupies while they were there.

Charles cleared his throat loudly and shot Skwisgaar a "we-talked-about-sexual-harassment" look that the guitarist completely ignored. The black-haired woman took his arm off her shoulder giving him a "thanks but I'm not interested" look. The tall one kissed him on the cheek, which he returned by kissing her on the mouth.

Pickles, Nathan and Murderface rolled their eyes. They had learned that being next to Skwisgaar meant that out of every female in a 100-meter-radius, two thirds of them would willingly have sex with him. It was as if he consciously diffused pheromones from his pores into the air.

"So how many girls did you bang while in Norway?" She knew him well.

"Not thats many, Arrie."  
"Yeah, right. Well, just you wait to see what panties I have on today, I'll drive you crazy."  
"Why cant's you shows me right now?" He put his hands on her ass, as if to pull her jeans down.

"Get a room, you two, jeezis!" Murderface complained. It was easier to ignore how much success the Swede had with the ladies when it wasn't happening in front of him.

Nathan looked thoughtful for a moment and took a notepad out of his bag.

"Oh, you're using the notepad I gave you!" The black-haired woman smiled at Nathan.

"Uh, yes I am, Marika, thank you."  
"Well I got tired of trying to read the song lyrics you wrote on napkins, at least this is neater."

"Are these for the new album?" Charles interjected.  
"I dunno, I just write down whatever when I think of something."

"What do you have so far?"

"Uh...Lay on the Floor of the Company Rape Van, Drowning in a River of Shit, Vitreous Fluid on My Face, Freeze your Guts and Fornicators of the Night. I...I added the last one just now."

Charles nodded. Maybe they _could_ record an album before the next fiscal year. But he would have to plan the publicity carefully. A couple of brutal music videos usually did the trick, but they were still recording videos from their last album "Hooves of the Anointed Covering Cherub". What if they included some of their more popular songs from their previous albums in this one? Would that piss off the fans? The title Vitreous Fluid on My Face conjured up very metal imagery, maybe the cover art could be based on that. But then the title of the album would have to be that song title and it was kind of a mouthful, it didn't bode well for marketing. Did the guy who did the art for their last album still take comissions? He'd been inexplicably injured while working on Dethklok covers...

While Charles was off to managerland, Marika turned to Pickles.

"I heard you hired a new guy! How is he like?"

"Kaind of weird. He seems too cheerful to be metal but at leest he can rock the guitar pretty well."

By now they had walked into the photo studio, which was actually a converted presidential suite. Skwisgaar and Murderface left while Nathan and Pickles changed and sat down to get their makeup on.

Arrie put on a tool belt filled with combs, brushes and various powders. She began to brush Nathan's hair. She was an expert at making it fall on his face in a way that allowed him to glare at the camera while having his face partially obscured.

Marika looked over at the printed schedule Charles had handed to her. Skwisgaar was scheduled to be in a talk show tomorrow. Nathan was giving an interview at the same time with a music expert. The next day Murderface would had an appointment for a tattoo magazine, but he still had not agreed to get pictures taken of his Pobody's Nerfect tat.

Charles set the schedule, but she was the one made sure they went to their appointments in time and were kept fed. She also had to make sure they worked on the new album instead of slacking off. She really wished there was more staff. Unfortunately, the fact that Dethklok staff had a high propensity to be maimed or killed was now well known in Crystal Records and few people applied for the job. She glanced at her left arm, which was a robotic prosthesis thanks to a little incident involving a real tiger at a live show.

"By the way, Thomas' appeal trial is today. I don't think he'll win it, but in theory he could be out of jail in one year instead of five." She mentioned while she was shuffling through the papers.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that douchebag." Nathan closed his eyes as Arrie dusted anti-shine powder on his nose.

"Even if he wins, he's already in the sexual offender list. If he goes on parole he'll still be very restricted by the location. I'm still a bit surprised that he got five years. I bet he is the first clear sexual assault case the court sees in years, so they're not let him go."

"Haw come yoo know so much about law? I remember you also told me how I could legally heet the bong the public when we were in Indiana." Pickles asked while Arrie did her best to hide his shitfaced pallor.

"I went to law school in Stanford."

"Seriously?" Arrie was surprised enough to stop her makeup. "You went to a fancy law school? What are you doing babysitting these guys then?"

Marika smiled sheepishly. "I was hired by Crystal Mountain Records almost as soon as I graduated."

"I didn't know you went to school," Nathan commented, getting up. "We should get to know each other better, Marika."

"That's not going to happen." Working with Dethklok, she'd learned she had to be blunt and clear when rejecting their advances. Things such as subtlety were not metal. "But Charles wants you to have at least one definite song recorded by the end of the week, so let's work hard, okay?"


	2. Du gör mig att må bra

Fandom: Metalocalypse  
Rating: M  
Warnings: het sex  
AN: This is a fic about the birth of the Klokateers and how Dethklok members used to be. I think their attitudes changed when they got hyper famous.

Toki had decided that being alone in his room was driving him crazy, so he decided to explore the dorm for a bit. He found a pool and a "business center" with a lone computer in it that was password-protected. He walked to the lobby, where he picked up the shared phone on the concierge's desk. The urge to call his parents and apologize was dampened by the fact that the guy in charge was definitely listening in and the phone cord was less than half a meter long.  
Eventually he found the laundry, which was much noisier than he expected. The vending machine sold cold sandwiches, but he realized that he only had 86 Norwegian krone in his pocket.

Wondering if he would have to wait until tomorrow when he would see the band again to eat, he sat down to look at someone's spinning laundry. It was oddly mesmerizing seeing the different-coloured clothes tumble and tumble.

"Hello!" The female voice startled him. Arrie was standing over him with an empty basket leaning against her hip. "You must be Toki. I'm Arrie, I'm Dethklok's official makeup and wardrobe consultant."  
She leaned over him and opened the door of the drier he'd been looking at. Toki didn't answer. He was trying really hard not to look at her breasts while she was emptying the drying. To his horror he discovered that it was her underwear he'd been staring it at. Granted, he'd never seen such bright colours for undergarments. Was that a USA thing?

She looked at him up and down. "Nathan was right, you need some work done before you look presentable for this scene. Hey, I have a couple of hours to kill, why don't we get started on a new wardrobe for you?"

"I cant's...I mean...what ams you suggesting?" With her short hair, her jeans and the fact that she worked for a metal band, she was definitely what his parents would call a hellbound slut.

"That we go shopping, silly! We have some outfits here on site but they're mostly for the music videos. I don't suppose you want to walk around in a replica if Viking armor, right?"

That actually sounded pretty cool but Toki did not dare say anything. He still imagined his father would walk in any second to punish him for having premarital contact with a woman.

"I ams sorry, Id's like to but I gots no money. Maybe when I gets paid we do this?"

Arrie laughed and it was contagious. As Toki smiled, his worry faded and so did his parents from his brain.

"You're such a cutie! Don't worry, you don't have to worry about the money." She took out a credit card. "We're living on the agency's dime now. Updating the wardrobe is an approved expense. We can also get food while we're out, they'll pay for that too." She winked at him.

The growl in Toki's stomach was all it took to convince him.

Toki walked back to his room feeling much better than when he first arrived. Arrie had shown him a place where he could get fifty chicken nuggets for fifteen dollars. His new leather boots felt snug but comfortable on his feet. The black pants and a dark blue shirt were technically old since they got them at a thrift store. Arrie had told him that even if they could afford to buy them new, used clothes had the right look of metal.

He looked at the bag with his shopping. The other item they'd bought at the thrift shop was a model F-4 Phantom jet that was missing a few pieces. Arrie had paid for this and the glue out her own pocket and insisted it was a welcome present for Toki. He hoped he'd thanked her enough. He'd definitely pay her back as soon as he got his first salary.

He took the alarm clock off the half-ruined bedside table table and emptied the contents of the box on it.

Two floors up from Toki's room, in one of the penthouses, Arrie was having fun too. As luck would have it, Skwisgaar had finished the video shoot almost at the same time as she returned. In the music video he was shirtless, wearing black leather pants with a skull-studded belt and that suited her just fine.

As they had sex on his couch she realized how much she liked this arrangement. Skwisgaar was brutally upfront about the fact that he also shagged other women. He didn't promise her money, or a higher position within the band's staff. They only had sex for fun. The only thing he'd promised her was multiple orgasms and boy did she get those.

When they were done she hugged him close, wondering if this was the last time they were going to have a fun, carefree session like this. They lay like that for a few moments, breathing heavily, she with her shirt pulled up to expose her boobs and him looking a bit silly wearing nothing but the leather pants around his ankles.

Skwisgaar pulled out gingerly and took off the purple condom Arrie had brought with her. He didn't know where she got prophylactics of every colour of the rainbow, but it amused him. She had to have a great stash somewhere because it took them two weeks before they had to repeat colours.

As he pulled up his trousers he walked to the mini fridge next to the sink.

"Do you wants a beer?" He offered as he opened one for himself. It was a German brand, Schneider Aventinus. He'd asked Charles for his favourite brand, Slottskällans Imperial Stout, but the band manager said they needed to be more successful before they could import beer from a microbrewery in Sweden. Typical.

She hooked her bra again and pulled down her shirt, she hesitated for a moment before answering. "No...and there's something I need to talk to you about."

Skwisgaar became a bit worried. Women never wanted to talk to him about anything unless it was about how they needed to be more serious in a relationship or that they wanted to break up. He liked Arrie because she was cool with just fucking. Did she change her mind?

"Hey, come sit next to me." She patted the cushion next to her.  
He obeyed, feeling rather awkward. She really was not a proper girlfriend, so could they break up if there was no official relationship?

"Skwisgaar, before I say this I want you to know that I did not plan this and I'm not after your money. I would be fine...if you left me after this, honestly. I can take care of myself. I earn a good salary on this job and I have some savings from the settlement the label gave me when...well when this happened."

She tapped her left eye, which was made of glass. Skwisgaar nodded, remembering the night the huge throne made of steel and skulls had taken her eye out. It was all Murderface's fault, really, for insisting that the spikes be made of real animal bones instead of cardboard props.  
She grabbed his hand and he realized they had never held hands before.

"I'm pregnant." Skwisgaar stared at her with like a gaping fish. Unfortunately her expression was only expectant, so he didn't know if this was happy news or terrible news.

He remembered the last time a girl told him she was pregnant. It was back in high school, probably a year or two before graduation. Back then his reaction had been immediate.

"Skit, vad gör vi nu?" _Crap, what do we do now?_  
"Jag får en abort, naturligtvis!" _I'm getting an abortion, of course!_

She looked really worried. Unlike Skwisgaar, she actually cared about what her parents thought of her sex life or rather the fact that she had one.  
"Ja, ja..." _Well, yeah... _

"Jag kommer att behöva pengar till detta utan mina föräldrar reda...Jag behöver 4000 kronor."_ I'm going to need money to this without my parents finding out...I need 4000 krona.  
_  
Teen-Skwisgaar cursed inwardly. Right now he was working as guitarist for a small band called Varulv. They were good enough to do gigs that paid actual money, but most of the time it was so little beer coupons would have been better. It would take him the better part of a month to come up with that sum. He knew that the longer she waited, the harder it would be.

"Titta, jag kanna få du 2500 i slutet av nästa vecka, men gör du tror du kan upp med resten på egen hand? Jag menar, det är halva ditt ansvar också, du samtyckt till att göra det utan kondom på..." _Look, I can get you 2500 by the end of next week, but do you think you can up with the rest on your own? I mean, it's half your responsibility too, you agreed to do it without a condom on...  
_  
She suddenly threw her science textbook at him, smacking him hard.

"Jag kan inte tro dig, du rövhål!" _I can't believe you, you asshole!_

Teen-Skwis looked at her without understanding why she was mad. He knew how to please women sexually, but their minds were an eternal mystery to him. He ended up asking for a loan from the drummer of Varulv, which took a stupid amount of time to repay because the asshole insisted in charging an interest.  
She just took the money and never spoke to him again, though she shot him dirty looks whenever they saw each other in the hallways.

Not that Skwisgaar cared, since by that point he was already having sex with the president of the student council. He learned to only have sex with women who were on the pill or whom he was not going to see again after one night. That had worked out for him until today.

"But...we uses condom every times?"

"I was, but I guess it failed. My doctor said no contraceptive has a 100% success rate."

"So...what ams you going to do?" He tried to sound casual.

"I'm going to have a baby, that's what. I don't mind being a single mother. You don't have to be involved...if you don't want to." Arrie hoped she didn't sound like she was pushing him away. "I know Dethklok is now truly taking off. You need to focus on your career, since you're one of the things that makes Dethklok great."

For the first time Skwisgaar smiled. "You sounds like you cares mores about Dethklok than me beings a father." The smile left his face soon as he said the last word. That word left a tinge of bitterness in his mouth.

"Of course! I was a fan of Dethklok before I was a fan of Skwisgaar!"

He chuckled, since it was really true. Then he stood pensive, feeling her warm hand over his. The prospect of fatherhood left him numb with shock, but it looked like she would be able to take care of things without demanding too much of him. Maybe he could grow to like the idea. Maybe he could visit her and the kid whenever Dethklok was taking a break. Maybe they could even be...a happy little family. Dare he think that?

"I ams not slackers. You mights have salaries but I pays you support too." He put his arm around her shoulders. "When Dethklok gets big, I buys you a house with yards and pools and separate rooms for playings musics in."

She smiled, but then her expression turned sad. "Before we get ahead of ourselves...we have to acknowledge something." She took his arm off her shoulders and met his gaze. "We have to acknowledge...this child might not be yours."

It was hard to say whether this struck him more than the pregnancy revelation.

It was true, he never expected to be her only partner because they'd made it clear they were not seeing each other exclusively. But he'd always hoped, perhaps selfishly, that he was her only source of sex.  
He quelled down the feeling of betrayal, knowing it would make him the biggest hypocrite in the world.

"When the baby is born, we can have a paternity test done. Even if it turns out positive, I wasn't planning on demanding any money from you."

Suddenly Skwisgaar realized that his mother might have been in a situation like this when she was pregnant with him. Had it happened this way? Had Serveta offered his father a chance to get out of responsibility and he'd simply walked away?

He looked at Arrie's amber eyes. She was definitely not a huge slut like his mother (who was?). In fact she was pretty responsible and professional, but was that enough to raise a kid?

He put his arm around her shoulders again. He would do something that none of the men in Serveta's life had ever done.

"I dont's care abouts DNsA's. I ams going to be a fathers to this kid. We raises him together, ja?"

She smiled and gave him a bear hug.

"So how fars along ams you?"

"Fourteen weeks. I'm going to start getting fat very soon." She pecked him in the mouth and then kissed him more deeply. Skwisgaar was still reeling from what he'd promised to do when he noticed that she was climbing on top of him.

"Let's do it again," she held his chin so they were facing each other.

"Wont's my dicks hurt the babys?"

She only laughed as she undid his fly.


	3. Nye venner?

Fandom: Metalocalypse  
Rating: M  
Warnings: het sex  
AN: This is a fic about the birth of the Klokateers and how Dethklok members used to be. I think their attitudes changed when they got hyper famous.

By the time Toki was finished building his model his model clock read 11:16. He realized it was just over 24 hours since he'd left Europe. It felt so weird and he didn't feel like sleeping. He looked proudly at his model. It was missing part of the tail and the plastic that made the cockpit was cracked but otherwise it was well put together.

He recapped the glue, wondering if the spilled contents on the bedside table would be a problem. They were definitely a permanent addition now.

He looked outside his window, noticing how dark it got. Maybe the star constellations looked different when you were on the other side of the planet? He decided to go to the roof.

Twenty minutes later, an amused Pickles rescued him from the old cage elevator.

"You have to pull thees lever down for the bars to apen. They lock in place when you close them."  
"Thanks, I was tryings to gets to the roof."

"Da roof? You can only go there with the fire ladder and when you open the emergency exit the alarm goas off. You'll wake everyone and look like a douchebag."

"Oh...I didnt's know thats..."

Pickles took a drag from the joint of weed he was smoking. He looked more amiable now that he was more high than drunk.

"Ey, Nathen and me are playing Asshole in my room, but it's kinda boring 'cause he cheats every time. Wanna play with us?"

"Yes! But the names is "Asshole"? What's the game likes?"

"Come n' see."

They went to room 834, where the door was ajar.  
"Nathen, look who I found trapped in the cage."

When they walked in Toki guessed that Pickles had had some time to decorate because this room was completely different from his. The curtains were black, the bedspread had a psychedelic print and the regular carpet had been replaced with shag. A large dresser against the wall had a large aquarium with blue light shining through it. The reflection of the water waves on the opposite wall gave the whole room a rather otherworldly look. The walls were completely filled with posters of various rock bands, most prominently Snakes n' Barrels. There was a drum set in the corner and an electric guitar leaning against it.

Nathan was sitting cross-legged on the middle of the floor with several playing cards on his lap. He had a beer in his hand and a half-filled case of the same brand behind him.

"Wowee, looks at the fishies!" Toki went to the aquarium to look at the colorful tropical fish.

"You should see them when you're high," Pickles walked next to him. "Though I have no fucking idea how they're still alive, because I always fahrget to feed them. Either Marika breaks into my room every day and feeds them or they've all died while we were in Norway and she replaced them."

"Whats do theys eat?"

"Anything, look."

He tore off a bit of ham from a half-eaten sandwich on the dressed and dropped it in the aquarium. Nearly all the fishes started nibbling on it.

"Once Ah cut my finger and I put it in the tank just for shits. They loved the blood, these fuckers. They're total cannibals."

Nathan was writing on his notepad. Trapped in the Cage of Agony was a good song title, but Cannibal fish also sounded good. Maybe they could use them both.

Pickles sat down next to Nathan and took another drag of his weed. "So Tokee, you've never played Asshole before? It's pretty simple: the winner of the previous round is the President. The one in second plahce is the Vice-President. The one who cahme in last is the Asshole."

"You're supposed to lose all your cards to win."

Toki sat down too, looking warily at the playing cards. "This...this ams not gambling, is it?"

"Naht unless you want to." Pickles was already dealing the cards.

"Ahkay, since you didn't win the previous game, you're the Asshole, Tokee."  
"Uh..."

"That means you have to give me your two best cards, Asshole." Nathan growled at him, taking a swig of beer.

Toki hesitated. This was unpleasantly reminding him of three bullies at his high school. They had also approached him under the guise of playing a game. Unfortunately the game was "put live rats in the school oven to see what happens". When Toki refused, they gave him similar looks that he was getting from Nathan and Pickles right now. A look that said "try and defend yourself, see what happens, you bitch".

That incident had ended up with one of the bullies getting second degree burns on most of his left arm and the other two agreeing not to tell anyone for fear of retaliation. The teachers never found out what exactly happened, but the rumours among the students were enough to prevent him from making friends.

As he put his cards in order, he glanced at Pickles again. He noticed the drummer was observing him more than challenging him and relaxed a little.

"Pass me a beer." He commanded Nathan as he gave him the ace of diamonds and the queen of spades.

The was tension in the air as the lead singer handed him an unopened bottled from the case. As Toki unscrewed the metal cap, Nathan opened one for himself.

"Hey new guy, I bet you can't drink as fast as I can."  
"Oh, you better chug that shit, or Nathen will win, dood!"

Before he knew it, Toki was downing the whole beer without coming up for air. He could almost feel the alcohol going to his brain.

"Aw-right, you can drink!" Pickles gave him a friendly punch in the arm and the tension eased.

They played several rounds and got more and more drunk and more talkative.

"I just hates my old high schools so much. They all ams assholes. Skål!"

"Dood! I know that feeling. When Ah finished high school we had a huge party after prom. Ah went there and threw a beer bottle at the window and shouted 'Happy graduation motherfuckers!' You should have seen da looks on thair faces."

"Well I dunno," Nathan looked down at his beer, feeling a bit self-conscious that he never graduated. "High school was good for getting laid, out know? In fact, that's where I got laid for the first time."

"Ah don't even remembar where I got laid the first time." Pickles ran a hand through his red dreads. "It was definitely after I left home, though."

"Yeah, I dont's...I dont's remember either." Toki said quietly while he hid his face by taking another swig of beer.

Nathan snorted at Pickles. "You probably traded blowjobs in exchange for burgers at the parking lot of Wendy's."

"Hey, fuck you, Ah'm classier than that. Ah'd be losing mah dignity at Burger King, not fahking Wendy's."

"Oh I loves fish sandwiches from Burger King!" Toki tried to change the topic away from oral sex.

"You guys have Burger King in Norway?" Nathan seemed genuinely surprised. "I didn't see any the entire time we were there. I thought you guys only ate raw fish."  
"We eats lots of fish, not just raws! We have fried and grilled and _dampet _and..."

"Stop it, you douchebag, I'm getting hungry!"

"Oh man, Nathen, remember Portland?"

"What about it? I remember it was full of losers."

"Yeah, but the _food_. I kind of want grilled Pacific Ahi Tuna right now..."

"I want mesquite roasted Sweet Briar Farms pork chops..."  
"And then have Stumptown Espresso crème caramel fahr dessert."

The three of them stood there salivating, even Toki was getting hungry at the mention of food.

"You asshole, now I'm really hungry! Let's order some food!" Nathan yelled.

"Dood, it's like 3am. There's nothing open with fish or pork chops. We could get pizza or burgers."

"Call Marika, I bet she'd actually find us an actual sushi bar that delivers at this hour."

"Yeah, she would." Pickles nodded. "But why should a Stanford graduate hunt for food for high and drunk assholes like us?"  
"I bet Charles would find a place too. Hell, I think Charles would **make** us grilled fish Portland style. Damn guy knows how to do everything."

Nathan's stomach growled loudly. "Fuck this! Call Kevin! Wake him up!"

Toki learned that Kevin was their chauffeur and quite willing to look for a restaurants that opened at insane hours. He didn't find any Portland style fish or pork, but he did find a Chinese restaurant that served shrimp dim sum, which according to Pickles was the equivalent of fish.

Toki could not remember going to sleep, he could only remember how satiated he felt after eating Chinese food at 4am and how soft the shag carpet felt.

Nathan woke up sore from sleeping sitting against the wall and he was surprised to see Toki's sleeping head on his lap, drooling slightly. His subsequent yell of disgust woke up both the drummer and the new second guitarist.

There was a knock on the door and Marika walked in. "Oh good, all three of you are here." She said casually, since apparently this was a common occurrence. "Mr. Ofdensen just gave me the revised schedule for today and I need to bring you up to speed.

"This morning we're shooting promo material at studio B. In the afternoon you have three interviews with music mags." She turned to Toki. "Please be nice to all the people in the biz, we want to leave a good taste in their mouths. I know the image of the band is to be 'rebels', but we want to be called back."

She looked at Nathan and Pickles. "Also, if you're asked about your private lives during the interviews, don't answer.

"Then at 7 we have a meeting with the events company about the outdoor shows. At 9 you have band practice at the West studio."

"Toki doesn't have to come with us to anything besides the practice." Nathan growled, glaring at the youth. He didn't appreciate waking up with a man so close to his crotch. "I mean, we're not shooting promo material with him until he's officially part of the band, right?"  
"Mr. Ofdensen suggested he familiarize himself on how the band runs so the transition is smoother."

Pickles was changing his pants, completely unfazed by the fact that there was a woman and a near complete stranger in the room with him.

"Looks like Charles wants to make up for the time lost in Norway." He said as he put two drumsticks in his pocket.

"Indeed, I suggest you all get ready right away. We're going to have breakfast in the van, so just freshen up."

She yanked back the black curtains and Toki began his first (of what would be many) day of working through a hangover.


End file.
